A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7) (11 page)

And he was heartstoppingly perfect.

She stared up at him and wished just for a moment that she had half of her sister’s confidence. Charlotte got all the good genes. She got the beauty and the curves and the…

“Holy shit. I do have a cycle. I think I just hit self-pity.”

He frowned even as his head came up and he started to drag her out into the alley. “Yes, I might have mentioned I wasn’t fond of that part.”

A Jeep turned down the alley, stopping on a dime.

“Our ride’s here.”

She followed Simon into the night.

Chapter Five

Jesse wasn’t alone. Simon opened the door to the back seat upon discovering the front was already occupied by a very wide-eyed Phoebe Graham. She peered at him through the thick glasses she wore.

“Are you all right?” Phoebe asked, her voice tremulous.

She was a little mouse, but one who seemed to have Jesse by the balls. They had started dating only weeks before, but Jesse seemed utterly fascinated by her. She was far too submissive for Simon’s tastes, but her very gentle nature obviously called to Jesse.

“We’re perfectly fit. I’m rather surprised to see you, Miss Graham.” Though he said the words to her, he meant them for Jesse, who should have known there were no civilians allowed during an escape from nefarious forces. “Come along, love.”

He would feel better once Chelsea was safely in the car. He ushered her in and then settled himself.

“I didn’t have a choice. I was on a date. You couldn’t expect me to just leave her. Not when I got that call about the emergency fumigation.”

Simon sighed. Emergency fumigation? That was the best he could come up with? Their eyes met in the rearview mirror, and Jesse grimaced.

They had to work on their scenarios.

“I didn’t know the bug problem was so big,” Phoebe said. “I would have thought a building like this would be very clean. And to think that it could potentially reach all the way to Jesse’s place.” She shuddered a little. “I don’t like bugs.”

Luckily Phoebe was a bit naïve. She was the accounting and billing specialist Ian had hired years before. She tended to stay in her office, only talking to Eve and Grace on a regular basis. The men of McKay-Taggart seemed to intimidate her. Until she’d met Jesse and then she’d been so charmingly graceless around him that Simon had to worry about getting a sweet tooth.

“Well, you know what they say about Texas.” He fell back on his cousins and the way they liked to talk. “Everything’s bigger here. Even the bugs. Scorpions. They sting and hard. We had to kill two of them on our way out of the building, so I think it would be good to put some distance between us and that particular memory.”

He heard Jesse curse under his breath as he pulled out of the alley. At least he knew Jesse had gotten the message. Two dead bodies. He would know to avoid those red and blue lights.

He turned left and stopped at the light. Jesse’s voice was tight as he tipped his head to the front of the building. “It looks like the situation is well in hand, partner.”

Or as he knew Jesse would say if they were alone, holy shit, we were almost fucked. There were two cop cars sitting in the circular drive at the front of the building. There was a uniformed officer standing by his car, his radio in hand. He was shaking his head and obviously calling for backup.

So they’d found the bodies. It was a good thing he’d bricked his phone because otherwise it would be ringing at that very moment. He would be one of the first people they called as the owner of the building. Luckily, he had the building manager’s number on file with the security company as his second in command. The poor man would be heartbroken that his lovely building had blood all over it, but he was competent enough.

Chelsea stared out the window, her anxiety a palpable thing. At least she understood what a wretched situation they would be in if they got hauled in by the Dallas police.

The light changed and Jesse very cautiously moved through the intersection. It was one of the reasons he and Jesse got along so well. The younger man almost never panicked. He was cool under pressure, although he had a few triggers that turned him into a beast Simon worried he might have to put down.

“I’m going to drop Phoebe home and then I’ll take us to a nice bug-free motel for the night,” Jesse said.

“You could stay at my place,” Phoebe said quickly and then seemed shocked at her own words. “I mean, only if you want to. I wasn’t like saying you had to or anything.”

For the first time, Jesse seemed a little flustered. “Uhm, that would be great. I mean I would love to stay at your place, but I can’t. I mean…”

Phoebe’s eyes widened. “Oh, okay. I understand. I just thought…”

Jesse shook his head. “No. No. I really do want to. I mean, we haven’t actually talked about…”

“Yeah. We should talk…”

Simon had no idea how they talked about anything since they couldn’t actually finish a sentence in each other’s presence. It was irritating. By this point Chelsea would have rolled her gorgeous eyes and told him to make a damn decision. He turned slightly to see a small smile on her face. She shook her head and gave him the universal sign for “they’re insane.”

They continued to speak in some weird shorthand, or maybe it was just that neither one of them wanted to end the painfully awkward conversation, but Simon had had enough. “Thank you so much for the offer, but I think Chelsea and I would be more comfortable in a hotel. It could take a few days.”

“Oh.” Phoebe blinked behind her glasses as she turned in her seat. “I suppose I understand. I actually have a really small place so I guess you would be uncomfortable.”

“I wouldn’t be,” Jesse said quickly. “I don’t need a lot of space. Trust me. I’ve been in some of the worst hellholes imaginable.”

He’d been in an Iraqi prison, or rather a jihadist one. Jesse Murdoch had been held for a very long time, so long everyone thought he was dead. He’d been forced to watch as one by one, the members of his team were beheaded. He alone had survived, and Simon rather thought that had been a part of his torture, too. Jesse would rather have died than watched his teammates killed. When he’d returned to the States, he’d had to deal with rumors that he’d turned.

Simon knew one thing about the pup. He wouldn’t have turned. He would have remained steadfast to his dying breath, but he didn’t always think things through. “Jesse, I rather thought you would come with us. We have that case Ian assigned us, you know.”

Dumbass.
He was getting far too Americanized. He sounded a bit like his teammates now, even in his head.

Jesse nodded. “Oh, right. The case. Yeah, that’s why I should go with them. I have work to do.”

Phoebe sighed. “Of course. I understand. Maybe some other time. I just thought tonight could be…well, it’s all for the best.”

“Cockblock,” Chelsea coughed under her breath.

Jesse’s eyes came up and they narrowed as he stared back at Simon. “It’s a really important case.”

Yes, he had to hope Jesse believed that or Simon was in for a whole lot of explaining. “Sorry, mate. It is vital.”

“Stupid work.” Jesse turned toward 75, mumbling under his breath the whole way.

For fifteen minutes they drove in silence until finally Jesse pulled up in front of a nice apartment building in North Dallas.

He hustled Phoebe out of the Jeep and Simon watched as he walked her to the door of her building. Phoebe strode forward, walking better in her heels than she ever had in the office. Curious. She always seemed to stumble along when she was working, but there was something about the way she followed Jesse, something about the easy roll of her hips and how her shoulders had straightened. She looked around and just for a second, Simon saw her eyes narrow as if she was taking in the night around her, evaluating, looking for threats. And then she was right back to smiling. She tripped on the curb, but it seemed an almost practiced thing.

Jesse bought it. He practically leapt in front of her to make sure she didn’t fall. She was in his arms and he stared at her for a long moment, no words passing between them.

“Dear god, Jesse’s in love.” Chelsea snorted a little. “They are going to make the world’s least communicative children. If they ever actually sleep together. I heard their first date consisted of watching Harry Potter until Jesse fell asleep.”

Jesse shook his head and said something that seemed to make her blush, but he finally got her to the door and kissed her. It was awkward, like all things but killing with Jesse, and yet there was a tenderness Simon couldn’t deny.

Jesse was falling for the girl and suddenly Simon wondered about her. It wasn’t anything tangible, just a feeling he got from time to time. Sometimes he could tell when someone was lying, and he would have bet in that moment that Phoebe Graham was hiding something.

“Was the first date at his place?”

Chelsea turned to him. “Why, Weston, I would have thought you would be above gossip.”

“No one’s above gossip.” Gossip could tell an agent things that facts would hide. Sometimes gossip had been his best friend.

“Phoebe and I aren’t exactly chummy, but Grace said they always stay at Jesse’s, though the rumor is they haven’t slept together. They’ve apparently slept in the same place, but not with like sex and stuff. So you really did cockblock the poor guy.”

“I’m sure he’ll return the favor at the worst possible moment.” So she liked to stay at his place. That was interesting, too.

The door opened and Phoebe disappeared inside, taking her secrets with her.

Jesse jogged back to the Jeep and hopped in.

Simon chose to keep his questions to himself for now. Jesse was in deep and he knew well enough that any hint that he had questions about Phoebe would be met with discontent. Evidence was needed and sometimes even that wasn’t enough.

“You have the worst timing in the world,” Jesse grumbled as he put the Jeep in first and started out of the parking lot.

“It wasn’t Simon’s fault. I’m the one they’re after,” Chelsea conceded. “Sorry for interrupting fun time.”

“I hadn’t even been aware there was going to be fun time.” He cleared his throat. “We decided to take it slow.”

Certainly. Simon was entirely sure that had been Jesse’s idea. “A very mature decision. You’ve been dating her for how long?”

“It’s only been a few weeks.”

“Six,” Chelsea piped up. Now that they were away from all the people trying to kill her, she’d perked up considerably.

And good for her since Simon’s mood had taken a nosedive. Perhaps he was seeing things that weren’t really there. The man from The Collective had inferred his uncle was a part of the organization.

He couldn’t believe it. The very thought of David Malone doing anything shady made him sick at his stomach. Ten years before he wouldn’t have had a shadow of a doubt, but he’d seen too much.

God, was he actually even entertaining the idea that his uncle was involved? If his uncle was involved, then JT was, too. JT knew Malone Oil like the back of his hand. Simon and Michael had worked rigs during the summers, but they’d always grumbled and complained about it. JT had loved it. Malone Oil was his birthright.

He couldn’t be part of The Collective. It had just been a way to get Simon to come with him. That had to be it.

“Hey, you asleep back there?” Jesse’s voice broke through his churning brain. “I need to know where to go.”

“Head toward Fort Worth. I have a couple of motels in mind. No credit cards. Cash only.”

Jesse’s eyes widened in the rearview. “Uhm, there aren’t a whole lot of those and they tend to charge by the hour, if you know what I mean.”

“We’re going to one. I have several addresses.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Chelsea said with a shake of her head. “Why would they charge by the hour…oh, seriously? Ewww. Simon, come on. You have to have like a safehouse or something. You own whole buildings. Don’t you have just one little tiny house where I won’t catch a venereal disease from prostitutes?”

“You’re planning on hiring them then? I wouldn’t advise it. If you’re looking for a hooker, I can certainly find you a more palatable one than we’re likely to come across at a motel. Jesse, do you still have your prostitute’s number?”

“Dude,” Jesse shot back. “We’re not supposed to talk about that around the chicks. And no. I have not been seeing my very nice and well-paid escort for a while. Not since I started dating Phoebe. God, Chelsea. Please don’t tell Phoebe. She doesn’t need to know.”

“But you know I deal in information, Murdoch. I’m going to have to think about it.”

He hated it when she joked like that. “You don’t deal in information anymore.”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Weston.”

He also bloody well hated it when she distanced. When they’d been running, she nestled easily in his arms and clung to him. She’d trusted him with her life and been a damn fine partner, and now she was sitting so close to him but they were a million miles away. “That’s ten.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t hold me to that contract.”